


Better Off This Way

by track_04



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Advice, Drinking, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-18 21:02:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20198134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/track_04/pseuds/track_04
Summary: Swimming with the crocodilesSpinning round and round and roundOnly I know I'm better off this wayThe water's still the safest place to staySwimming with Crocodilesby The Veils





	Better Off This Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asuralucier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asuralucier/gifts).

"Jonathan." Winston lifted his martini glass and eyed the blood on the collar of John's shirt. "Busy evening?"

"The usual."

Winston motioned at the empty glass and unopened bottle of whiskey waiting for him on the table. "I thought that might be the case. Have a seat."

John settled into one of the room's armchairs, one hand tugging at the leg of his pants, adjusting himself discreetly as he leaned forward and poured himself a drink.

"Exciting evening, too," Winston said, giving his crotch a pointed look. "Would you like a hand?"

John set the bottle back on the table and frowned at him, trying to decide whether or not he was supposed to laugh. "I didn't think that was one of the services you offered here."

Winston gave him a warning look. "It's not."

"...sorry."

"You're forgiven," Winston said, expression shifting back to patient amusement. He sipped his martini and indicated the empty space beside him on the couch. "I'm not coming to you."

John nodded and downed his whiskey. He wiped his hand across his mouth and set his now-empty glass back on the table, taking a moment to screw the cap back on the whiskey before he stood and moved to the couch.

"I've always liked that about you, Jonathan. You have an eye for detail." Winston waited for John to get settled and then nodded at his fly.

John took the hint and unzipped, spreading his legs to give them both a better view. When he looked up, Winston was watching him, a look of approval on his face.

"Impressive as always."

"Thank you," John said, trying to ignore the wet spot his cock was already leaving on his jacket.

Winston smiled and held his free hand out, waiting for John to take it and lift it to his face. He watched John's tongue move against his skin and took another sip of his martini, then pulled his hand out of John's grasp and reached down, wrapping damp fingers around his cock. He didn't bother with any sort of build up to the act itself, stroking him with the same sort of precision and insistence that he applied to everything. John watched the movement of his wrist and thought about the tone of voice Winston used when he told particularly troublesome guests that they were _welcome to take their business elsewhere if they were unhappy with the management here_.

His cock throbbed and he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the couch, hips shifting against the cushions. Winston's hand was rougher than it should have been, callouses in places you didn't get from working a hotel. He might have asked about it, under different circumstances, but at that moment he couldn't bring himself to care enough about the answer to bother. The sound of Winston's hand sliding against his skin seemed like a strange substitute for their usual conversation, but John couldn't bring himself to care enough to mind that, either.

His arched his back when he came, come splattering his suit jacket and his thighs flexing, right foot sliding against the floor. Winston stroked him through it, waiting for John's soft hiss of pain before he released him; he left John's cock resting against his stomach and sat silently, watching as John caught his breath. John could hear the soft rustle of fabric as he used a handkerchief to clean the traces of what they'd just done from his fingers.

"Better?"

"Yes." John opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. When Winston didn't say anything else he sat up, reaching out a hand toward him to return the favor.

Winston caught his wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. "I'm afraid you have yet to earn that priviledge." 

"Oh." Winston released him and John flexed his fingers. "Okay."

"If I may offer a word of advice." He arched an eyebrow thoughtfully and didn't wait for John's answer. "You should learn to be less trusting of the people you consider friends."

John frowned. "You want me to be _less_ trusting?"

"Everyone knows that there are people you'd hesitate to kill if given the option, and that can be very dangerous in your line of work. Especially if they aren't going to return the favor."

"Would you return the favor?"

Winston smiled faintly. "That's a very good question."

John nodded slowly, taking a moment to put himself back in some semblance of order, putting his cock away and zipping up his pants before he stood. "I'll take that under advisement."

"Take the whiskey with you," Winston said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and holding it out to him. "And stop by the front desk before you leave tomorrow. Charon will give you the number of my tailor. I suggest you call him."

John took it, their fingers brushing. "I will. Thanks."

"Anytime, Jonathan."


End file.
